


Feel Like Makin' Love

by OpenPage



Series: The Greatest Love Story Ever Told [5]
Category: 21 Jump Street (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6566353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpenPage/pseuds/OpenPage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom is tired of Dennis treating him like “the little woman”. But is his lover prepared to submit in order to grant him his one wish?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Cut Is the Deepest

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own 21 Jump Street or any the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.**
> 
> **No copyright infringement is intended.**
> 
> **Based on the TV series 21 Jump Street.**  
>     
> This will be a short, two chapter story. I was listening to Bad Company, and this little tale came to mind. If you aren’t familiar with the song, click on the link below and lose yourself in some 1970s classic rock. (Yes, I’m definitely showing my age :D  
>    
> In peace,  
> OpenPage x
> 
>   
>  ["Feel Like Makin’ Love" ~ Bad Company](https://youtu.be/TeZqjZ_kvLY)   
> 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156893755@N07/35166595943/in/dateposted-public/)

The apartment door burst open, the force sending it slamming back against the wall with a crash. “DADDY’S HOME!” 

Tom exhaled a relieved sigh. After a humiliating encounter with a barbed wire fence, he had spent four, long, tedious days lying on his side watching television and lamenting his misfortune. With dozens of deep, jagged cuts acting as a painful reminder of his recent folly, his self-esteem was at an all-time low, and he looked forward to the peaceful evenings spent wrapped in the comforting arms of the man he adored. Dennis’ loving embrace was the only tonic he needed to ease the stinging discomfort of his physical and mental wounds, and he counted the hours until his dark-haired Adonis walked, or more accurately, _burst_ through the door.

But before Tom could struggle to a sitting position and greet his lover, Booker closed the door with a resounding bang. “What? No pot roast in the oven?” the officer bemoaned in a mocking voice. “Geez, Hanson, you _really_ suck at the wifely duties. I’ve been bustin’ my hump _all_ day, and I come home to find you lazing on the couch with no sign of dinner on the table. Didn’t your mom tell you the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”

A heavy scowl swallowed the smile forming on Tom’s lips, and moving stiffly into a sitting position, he glared angrily at his lover. “Don’t,” he snapped moodily. “You know I hate it when you do that. I’m not your fucking _wife,_ so stop treating me like one.”

Amused by Tom’s agitation, Booker cleverly disguised the smile twitching at his lips, and sauntering across the room, he squatted down beside the couch and tenderly brushed the younger man’s hair from his eyes. “Aw, baby, you know I’m only teasing. Of _course_ you’re not my wife … You’re just my girlfriend ‘cause, you know, we’re not married.”

With lightning speed, Tom’s bandaged hands connected with Booker’s chest, the force behind the shove revealing the level of his anger. Caught by surprise, Booker toppled backward, his left shoulder catching painfully against the edge of the coffee table. “Ow!” he cried out, and pushing himself to a sitting position, his fingers tenderly rubbed at his bruised flesh. “Why the hell did you do that?”

Unperturbed by Booker’s injury, Tom’s dark eyes radiated with a harsh, unforgiving rage. “You’re such an ass, Booker. Sometimes I wonder why the hell I put up with your shit.”

Dennis initially faltered under the malevolent glare blazing from Tom’s narrowed eyes, but he quickly reclaimed his dignity by curling his lip into his trademark sneer. “Lighten up, Hanson. Can’t you take a joke?”

Frustrated by Booker’s lack of understanding, Tom was in no mood to explain how the thoughtless teasing had the power to emasculate him. With a grunt, he heaved his battered body from the couch. “Fuck you,” he muttered, and stepping over Booker’s legs, he limped into the bedroom and slammed the door closed behind him.

**

The squeak of the door’s hinges alerted Tom to Booker’s presence, and screwing his eyes closed, he feigned sleep. But his lover was not easily fooled, and moments later, the edge of the mattress depressed under the dark-haired officer’s weight.

Dressed in tee shirt and boxers, and with his hands swaddled in white bandages, Tom looked incredibly vulnerable. Several deep lacerations crisscrossed the tender flesh of his inner thighs, the angry, red wounds accentuating the paleness of his skin, and Booker instantly regretted his thoughtless provocation. His lover was in pain, and instead of showering him with the love and attention he deserved, he had behaved like an insensitive fool. But he was determined to rectify the situation, and reaching out a hand, he lovingly stroked a finger down Tom's pale cheek. “Do you want me to rub some lotion on your cuts, baby?” he asked softly.

Tom kept up his charade for another minute before slowly opening his eyes. “No,” he muttered moodily. “I just want you to leave me alone.”

Not one to be put off by his lover's petulance, Booker flashed what he hoped was an alluring smile. “Aw, baby, don’t be like that,” he murmured, his fingers trailing a slow, erotic dance up Tom’s naked thigh. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

Pushing himself up on one elbow, Tom stared deep into Booker’s chocolate-brown eyes. “Do you _really_ want to make it up to me?” he asked quietly.

“Of course, baby,” Booker crooned, a beguiling smile tilting his lips. “Tell me what to do; I wanna make things right.”

Tom chewed on his lower lip for several seconds before voicing his request. “I want to make love to you.”

Booker’s dark eyes flashed with arousal. The extent of Tom’s injuries had cooled their affection to the point where they hadn’t made love in nearly a week. The memory of his lover’s tight muscles squeezing his cock as he slowly slid in and out of his willing body made him instantly aroused, and he grinned boyishly. “Sure, as long as you’re up to it. I’ve gotta admit, I’ve missed feeling you writhing beneath me. This is gonna be a treat for both of us.”

Tom’s face flushed red, and lowering his gaze, his head shook from side to side, his unruly bangs whipping across his finely chiseled cheekbones. “No, that’s not what I mean. I don’t want _you_ to make love to _me. I_ want to make love to _you.”_

At first, the words made no sense to Booker, but in a light bulb moment, the quietly spoken statement suddenly became crystal clear and getting up from the bed, he took a step backward. “Nuh-uh,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Sorry, Tom, but the answer’s no.”

Disbelief widened Tom’s eyes. “No? What do you mean, _no?_ Why the hell not?”

Despite Tom's hurt expression, Booker’s steely gaze didn’t waver. “Because I don’t bottom.”

The muscles in Tom’s jaw tensed, and his nostrils flared with indignation. “Oh! But it’s okay for _me_ to bottom because _I’m_ the fucking feminine one, is _that_ it?”

Irritation pushed Booker’s lower lip into a sulky pout. “I didn’t say that,” he scowled. “Don't twist my words just so you can justify your self-pitying mood.”

An explosive anger erupted from deep inside Tom, and he jerked forward, his dark eyes flashing with a fiery mania born from the physical and emotional pain racking his body and soul. “I DON’T TWIST ANYTHING!” he screamed hysterically. “YOU CALLED ME YOUR FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! DO YOU HAVE _ANY_ IDEA HOW EMASCULATING THAT IS, YOU STUPID SONOFABITCH?”

If anyone but Tom had dared to speak to him in such a manner, Booker would have punched them square in the face. But he managed to rein in his fury, and balling his hands into tight, angry fists, his body bristled with an apoplectic rage. “Screw you, Hanson,” he seethed through clenched teeth, and snatching his jacket from a jumble of clothes lying on a chair, he stormed out of the apartment.


	2. A Kiss in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **So, this chapter was _supposed_ to be approximately 2000 words long. However, I have come to the conclusion that I am incapable of condensing my thoughts, and therefore, it took a little longer to write than I had expected.**
> 
> **In peace,**   
>  **OpenPage x**

Only half a dozen people occupied the small, dimly lit diner, which suited Booker perfectly because he was not in the mood for company. He sat slumped on a stool, his elbows resting on the scratched surface of the pale-green laminate counter, a glass of beer clutched in both hands. A crumpled paper napkin lay discarded on an empty plate smeared with sauce; the remnants of a meal he did not remember eating. It was his first serious fight with Tom, and the experience had left him with a dull, painful ache in his heart. An echo of Tom screaming, _YOU STUPID SONOFABITCH,_ repeatedly reverberated inside his head, the validity of the caustic insult adding to his misery. There was no getting around it; he _was_ a stupid sonofabitch. Not only had he offended the man he loved, but he had shamed and belittled him. Tom was sensitive, especially when it came to their relationship. He hated it when Booker told him he was pretty—even though he was—and he especially hated it when the dark-haired officer teased him about being his _little woman._ But it was a joke Dennis found difficult to let go of; partly because Tom looked so damn adorable when his face flushed an attractive shade of pink, and partly because the older officer had an almost obsessive need to confirm his standing as the alpha male. Most of his hidden insecurities stemmed from the long, and seemingly interminable years spent fighting bullies in high school, and it wasn’t until he entered college that he felt truly comfortable with his sexuality. However, there was always a deep-seated angst buried just beneath the surface of his outwardly cocky personality, and therefore, even though he trusted Tom implicitly, he found it difficult to relax and just be himself without puffing out his chest and displaying his bravado like an overconfident peacock.

With a sigh, he picked up his glass and drained the remaining beer in two swallows. As he turned to leave, he spied a couple sitting in a booth, their arms stretched across the table, their fingers lovingly entwined. As the man spoke in hushed tones, a look of pure idolization radiated from the young woman’s face. It was a magical moment of unconditional love displayed publicly for anyone to see, and yet the couple remained happily oblivious to Booker’s scrutiny. In their world, no one else existed, and therefore, they did not care what anyone thought. It was a defining moment for Booker, and his heart began to race, the heavy tempo of the rhythmic beat quickening his pulse. He had behaved abominably toward Tom, but he now knew what he needed to do to fix the hurt and make everything right. Tom was his world; he was the brightness of the sun and the majesty of the moon, the dawn’s early light, and the evening’s shadowed darkness, he was the twinkle of the stars and the deepest mysteries of the ocean. He was, in a word, his everything, and therefore, he would lay down beside him and grant him his wish.

**

Using his key to unlock Tom’s apartment, Booker walked in and quietly closed the door. The living space was in darkness, and switching on a table lamp, he looked around the room. Tom’s bedroom door was shut tight, the thick wood acting as a metaphorical barrier, keeping them apart, and for a moment, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Sometimes Tom needed time to cool off, and he didn’t want to make things worse between them by coming on too strong. But the desire to rectify his mistake overrode his sensibilities, and crossing the room, he took a deep breath and opened the bedroom door.

Tom lay asleep on top of the covers, his body curled in the fetal position. Soft moonlight shone through the open curtains, the pale beams illuminating the whiteness of the bandages sheathing his hands. Booker looked on in awe, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest. Never before had he felt such an overwhelming desire to protect Tom, and a surge of pure love exploded from within his heart. Now was the perfect time to show the man he adored just how much he loved him; now was the perfect time to face his fear.

Kicking off his boots, he quickly stripped off his clothes until he stood naked under the light of the full moon. He could feel his cock swelling, his arousal igniting a fire in the pit of his stomach. A warm glow radiated over his bare flesh, sending a tingle of anticipation down the length of his spine, and moving forward, he climbed onto the bed. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping an arm around Tom’s narrow waist, and placing his lips against the delicate contours of his lover’s ear, he kissed the warm flesh. “Baby, wake up,” he whispered.

Tom pulled away, a low moan rumbling in the back of his throat. “Go ‘way, ’m sleeping.”

A smile touched the corners of Booker’s lips, and snuggling up close, he spooned Tom from behind. “But this is important.”

With a loud, disgruntled huff, Tom rolled over and opening his eyes, he glared at Booker through a curtain of sleep-tousled hair. “What?” he asked crossly.

The life-altering moment was not going exactly as Booker had planned, but he remained calm, despite Tom’s hostile attitude. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he confessed, the quiver in his voice expressing the intensity of emotion welling from the very depths of his soul.

The color drained from Tom’s face, and he instantly felt nauseous. The moment he had dreaded ever since he had allowed Dennis to infect his heart and soul was fast becoming a reality, and he struggled to maintain his composure. Without thinking, he used his hands to push himself to a sitting position, and immediately, the sensation of a thousand knives ripping through his damaged flesh had him choking back a sob. The tears of pain pricking at his eyes were difficult to disguise, and not wanting to humiliate himself for a second time in one evening, he wrapped his arms protectively around his torso and lowered his head in shame. “You’re leaving me,” he stated in a flat voice.

Shocked by the assumption, Booker pulled Tom into his arms. “Baby, no!” he exclaimed, his lips tenderly kissing away Hanson’s hot tears before they could spill from his tortured eyes. “Why would you say that?”

Relief flooded through Tom's body, and relaxing against Dennis’ chest, he took comfort from his affections. But Booker wasn't about to let Tom off that easily, and placing a hand under his chin, he gently tilted up his face so he could look him in the eye. “Well?” 

Embarrassed, Tom disengaged from his lover’s embrace, and flopping back against his pillow, he exhaled a heavy sigh. “I dunno,” he confessed. “I guess I panicked. You were so serious.”

A slow, cheeky smile curled Booker's lips. “You're not a very good cop, Hanson. Why would I be naked if I was about to break up with you?”

Tom’s eyebrows rose in surprise and casting his gaze downward, he grinned at the sight of Booker’s semi-erect cock. But the memory of their argument soon dulled the light in his eyes, and determined to hang on to the last shred of his dignity, he made a stand by turning his back on his lover. “I’m not in the mood.”

Not about to let Tom’s petulance ruin his plans, Booker leaned in closer, the wispy threads of his hot breath tickling the back of the young officer’s neck. “Even if I bottom?” he murmured, his hand gently squeezing Tom’s thigh.

They were four innocuous words, but when strung together, they had the power to ignite an inextinguishable fire in Tom’s loins, which in turn sent his stomach rolling into flip flops of hot desire. Blood pulsated through his cock, engorging the veins and adding length to his already impressive member, and a shiver of excitement ran down his spine. This was the moment he had dreamed about; this was the moment he would become Booker’s equal because this was the moment he would prove himself a man.

Hardly daring to believe his ears, he rolled over and gazed into Booker's eyes. “Really?” he whispered in a voice filled with wonderment. “You'd _do_ that for me?”

Blood pounded in Booker’s ears, the rhythmic _whoosh_ matching the tempo of his rapidly beating heart. Before speaking, he swallowed several times in quick succession, the action working some much-needed saliva into his dry mouth. “Yes,” he croaked.

Love shone from the darkest depths of Tom’s sultry, brown eyes, the shimmering collage of passion and devotion flowing from every fiber of his being. His flesh trembled beneath the warmth of Booker’s hand, the quivering vibration spreading throughout his entire body. He longed to feel his lover’s naked flesh against his own, but with his hands swaddled in bandages, even stripping out of a tee shirt and boxers was difficult. So, rather than waste any more time, he stepped up and took command of the situation. “Undress me,” he instructed in a soft, seductive voice.

Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, Booker made short work of ridding Tom of his unwanted clothing. But he understood the need for his lover to be in control, and rolling onto his back, he opened his arms and waggling his eyebrows, he gave what he hoped was a cheeky, _come-hither_ look. “I’m all yours, Officer.”

Tom’s dark eyes lit up like Christmas trees. Although unable to use his hands, he was not about to let his disability prevent him from realizing his dream, and straddling Booker’s legs, he lowered his body so his forearms rested on the mattress on either side of the dark-haired officer’s head. He could feel Booker’s naked flesh quivering between his calves and his heart filled with a reverently tender love that was rarely expressed in life except by the poets and the dreamers. It was a once in a lifetime, blow your mind experience that few couples ever encountered during their years together. But Tom knew, for them, the depth of emotion would never fade. They belonged together; Booker was the yin to his yang, the night to his day, the stars to his moon. When apart, they functioned just fine, but together, their souls entwined and they became a living, breathing, cohesive entity of intense love. Yes, they argued, but even their disagreements were bound by a fiery passion. Theirs was a partnership envied by many, and experienced by few. They were the lucky ones.

Ducking his head, Tom placed a tender kiss on Booker’s lips. “I _love_ you,” he murmured, and without waiting for an answer, he continued an oral examination of his lover’s warm flesh. His tongue dipped into the hollow of Dennis’ throat, his soft, moist lips full of tenderness and passion as they explored the familiar contours. The heat of Booker’s skin radiated against his lips, and his breath melted into a moan. “Oh, babe,” he whispered. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Suck me,” Dennis breathed, his dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

A smile tilted Tom’s lips. “Cheeky,” he admonished softly. “Who’s in charge here?”

“You are,” Booker moaned somewhat regretfully, the desperate need to feel Tom’s lips wrapped around his cock becoming an obsession.

Tom’s grin widened. During their relationship, Booker had always been the one in control. But finally, it was his turn to shine, and he was going to do things his way. He softly caressed Booker’s broad chest with his mouth, occasionally pausing to suck on the taut skin before resuming his exploration; his devotion leaving dozens of red hickeys on the smooth flesh. When he reached a nipple, his mouth traced a wet trail around the dark areola, and receiving a moan of approval, he zeroed in on the raised nub and flicked it with his tongue. Booker's long fingers grasped his waist, the officer's nails biting into his flesh, urging him on. Encouraged, Tom grazed his teeth over the hard flesh before sucking deeply, his efforts eliciting another moan from above. Finishing up with a gentle bite, he grinned against Booker's quivering flesh. "Do you want me to keep going?"

“Yes, yes, yes,” Booker moaned. “Keep going, keep going.”

Shuffling further down the bed, Tom’s hot mouth trailed over the ridges of Booker’s abdomen. The defined muscles rippled and tensed beneath his lips, the sensation intensifying his arousal. His cock now curved toward his belly, its long, thick shaft lengthening and swelling into hardness, the head blushing a dark shade of purple as blood pumped through his engorged veins. He sneaked a peak downward, and his eyes greedily devoured the magnificence of Booker’s cock. Unable to use his hands, he utilized his skilled mouth instead, and ducking his head, he peppered feathery kisses up the length of his lover’s erection. He paused when he reached the smooth cockhead. “Do you want me to kiss it?” he teased softly, the whispery thread of his breath lightly dancing over the sensitive tip.

 _“Yesss,”_ Booker hissed, his body squirming from the titillation of Tom's tender ministrations. “Kiss it, Tommy, kiss it.”

Tom’s dark eyes ignited with a fiery passion, and moistening his lips in readiness, he pressed his mouth against the gleaming slit and delivered a soft, butterfly kiss to the smooth head.

A jolt of electricity shot through Booker’s body and reaching out, he tangled his fingers in Tom’s hair. “Again!” he gasped. “Oh, God! Again!”

As much Tom wanted to savor Booker’s unique sapidity against his tongue, he knew he was racing against the clock. Due to his injury, he had not had the pleasure of an orgasm for nearly a week, and his cock now ached for release, its burgeoning head glistening with opaque droplets of precum. If he didn’t act fast, he would blow his load before he even had a chance to experience the dizzying heights of making love to the man he adored.

With a moan of regret, he sat up, his dark eyes shining with embarrassment. “I’m not gonna last long,” he lamented, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. “If we don’t—”

“Shhh, baby,” Booker reassured softly, and reaching out a hand, he stroked a finger up the length of Tom’s cock. “I’m close too. Let me get you ready.”

An overwhelming sense of gratitude washed over Tom. It was a side of Booker’s nature the dark-haired officer kept hidden from everyone except a select few. It was the loving, nurturing side that made Tom feel special every time his lover’s coal-black eyes immersed him in their depths. It was the _real_ Dennis Booker.

He watched through heavily-lidded eyes as the dark-haired officer rummaged through the bedside drawer, his breathing now heaving heavily from his chest in short, shallow bursts. Booker quickly located a tube of lubrication and held it up triumphantly, the ecstatic look on his face making Tom laugh. However, moments later, when warm fingers touched his cock, Tom’s laughter transformed into a loud gasp, and a moan of pleasure expelled from between his lips, followed by a jolt of vibrant energy shooting through his body, the force flowing outwards like a ripple through a pool. Suddenly, he was terrified of losing control, but Booker’s skilled fingers knew just how much pressure to apply as he smeared a copious amount of oil over the length of his shaft. Then, when Dennis handed him the small tube both their minds instantly registered a problem. 

“Shit,” Tom moaned, his bandaged hands mocking him with their inability to perform even the simplest of tasks. “How the hell are we supposed to do this?”

Booker wasn’t about to let a minor hurdle get in the way of healing their relationship. “I’ve got an idea,” he revealed with a grin, and sitting up, he motioned toward the pillow. “Swap places.”

With his dream of making love to Booker fast becoming nothing more than a fantasy, Tom’s eyes grew wide at the deception. “No way!” he whined childishly. “You promised!”

Although Booker had made a silent vow _never_ to tease Tom again, he quickly forgot his pledge and his eyes twinkled with amusement. “Idiot,” he laughed. “If you lie down, _I_ can straddle _you.”_

It took a moment, but the penny finally dropped, and Tom managed to laugh at the misunderstanding. “Um, okay.”

In a graceless tangle of ungainly limbs, they quickly switched places. But as Booker took his position, Tom posed the awkward question. “But how do I get you ready? I still can’t use my hands.”

Booker’s eyebrows waggled theatrically, and picking up the lube, he slathered the fingers of his right hand in the oil. Under Tom’s watchful eye, he reached between his legs and expelling a breath, he inserted a finger into his anus. He paused for a moment, the unfamiliar sensation sending a ripple of urgent need through his loins. It was a strange feeling, but not unpleasant, and he experimented by carefully moving his finger in and out. Once he felt himself relax, he inserted a second digit, the added width helping stretch his internal muscles. 

Tom’s lips parted, and flicking the tip of his tongue salaciously over his lips, he watched the performance with orgiastic enthusiasm. “Jeees _uuusss,”_ he hissed, his dark eyes burning brightly. “That’s _so_ fucking hot.”

Once satisfied he was ready to receive Tom’s enormous erection, Booker removed his fingers, and shuffling forward on his knees, he positioned himself over Tom’s groin. “I’ll help you, okay?” he whispered, his dark eyes soft and shining with love and understanding.

Now the moment had finally arrived, Booker appeared uncharacteristically calm for a man who just hours before, had balked at the idea of _taking it up the ass._ Tom, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves. “Okay,” the young officer replied, the quaver in his voice sounding much more pronounced than he would have liked.

Booker placed his left hand on Tom’s smooth chest. He then wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the base of his lover’s erection, and lowering his body so the tip pressed against his anus, he exhaled heavily and bore down.

The sensation of tight muscles squeezing his cock was unlike anything Tom had ever experienced, and an excited moan expelled from between his lips. The pressure around his cock intensified as Booker slowly moved up and down, and he wondered how he had lived to the age of twenty-three without ever experiencing such a sexually stimulating sensation. His pupils grew huge, darkening his eyes, and he focused his gaze on his lover’s weeping cock, mesmerized by its size and beauty. “Jesus,” he moaned. “Oh, Jesus.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby,” Booker murmured.

“God, yes,” Tom moaned passionately, the tightness surrounding him creating a fiery ball in the pit of his stomach that ignited his testicles and sent spasms pulsating down the length of his shaft. 

The tender touch of hands grasping his hips, acting as a gentle guide as he rode the huge cock inside him, was a deeply emotional experience for Booker, and his heart swelled with love. Eventually, as his internal muscles relaxed, his movements became more fluid, and leaning forward, he entwined his fingers through the railing of the cast iron headboard. The shift in position was all it took, and he gasped as a fire exploded from within. With Tom’s cock now slamming against his prostate, he suddenly understood how incredibly _exhilarating_ it was to submit his body completely to the man he loved. His breath rasped out in ragged pants, and increasing his pace, his body squatted up and down at a furious speed, his thigh muscles cording from the strain. With his erection bouncing erotically against his taut belly, he was a vision of masculine beauty. “There!” he gasped in excitement. “Oh God, Tommy, _THERE!”_

The flaming passion burning from the eternal depths of Booker’s dark eyes heightened Tom’s senses, and his hips jerked forward, the motion forcing his body upward to meet each of his lover’s downward thrusts. “I’m close I’m close I’m close,” he moaned, his sexual mantra falling into rhythm with the sound of the bed knocking against the wall. 

Sweat glistened on Booker’s chest, and tiny rivulets ran down his torso, the droplets coming to rest in the dark mass of his pubic hair. “So good,” he panted. “It feels… so… fucking… good.”

Wanting more control, Tom reached out a bandaged hand, his fingertips lightly stroking the ridge of Booker’s perineal raphe. “Come for me,” he whispered.

Whether it was the physical stimulus of Tom’s gentle caress or the verbal encouragement of the softly spoken command, Booker did not know, but it was enough to push him over the edge. “Oh oh oh oh… oh God oh God oh... _AHHH!”_

Semen shot from the tip of his penis, the force of his ejaculation coating his chest in the saliferous fluid. Seconds later, a powerful full body tremor vibrated over Tom’s naked flesh, and forgetting all about the pain in his hands, he held his lover in place with rough fingers as he shuddered out his release, the intensity of his grasp leaving angry red marks on Booker’s skin. 

Collapsing forward, Booker sought out the fullness of Tom’s lips and lovingly devoured him. When the kiss became sloppy, he pulled away and gently disengaging their bodies, he flopped onto the mattress. “Wow,” he declared simply, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he fought to catch his breath.

“Yeah,” Tom replied laconically, and closing his eyes, he concentrated on the post orgasmic pleasure waves tingling over his body. As his breathing slowed, he began to drift toward total relaxation, but a sharp elbow to his ribs soon pulled him out of his meditative state. “Ow!”

Booker grinned, and pulling Tom into his arms, he kissed his forehead. “So, do you still love me?” he asked softly.

Tom’s lips curled at the corners and snuggling into the protective warmth of his lover’s embrace, he exhaled a contented sigh. “Always.”

_Finis_


End file.
